


Don't Call Me Crazy

by loveheartlover



Category: Glee
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveheartlover/pseuds/loveheartlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is admitted to a psychiatric ward at the age of seventeen. There he meets people who change his perspective of life, of the future, and of himself. There he finds a kindred spirit in nineteen year old Mercedes, and companionship in the sixteen year old mute boy two rooms down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the individual warnings for each chapter, the absolute last thing I want to do is trigger anyone. Likewise if you think the rating should be changed please let me know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of suicidal thoughts and self harm.

Kurt is admitted by his father and Carole.

He doesn’t kick up a fight, he doesn’t have to be forced to agree. He knew it was going to happen sooner or later.

Burt comes to talk to him one night, sits on the end of his bed while Carole hovers by the door, not sure whether she’s welcome but wanting to support her husband. Kurt isn’t in his bed. He’s in his closet, back pressed against the doors, but he can see through them if he turns his head, if he squints through the slats.

“You want me to go to the hospital.”

“You need help, Kurt. I want you to be safe, and I think you know as well as we do that you aren’t very safe by yourself right now. You’re sad, and-“

“No,” Kurt says, and his voice is quiet, slow. “I’m not.”

“Bud there’s no point lying to-“

“I’m not lying Dad. I’m not sad. I’m not… anything. I just am.”

“Kurt,” Carole says, tapping on the closet door. Kurt flinches. He hadn’t realised she’d left her perch by the door. “Kurt I understand. I do. Your Dad and I want you to get some help, so you can feel better. Honey can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you come with us to the hospital?”

Kurt is silent as he looks down at the blade clasped in his right hand, at the scars across his wrists that are exposed by the sleeves he had pushed up to his elbows a few minutes before Burt had come up the stairs. As he looks at the cuts criss-crossed over the old scars. At the blood trickling down his fingers in the dim light of the closet. They aren’t deep enough.

They’re never deep enough.

“Okay.”


	2. Admission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of an eating disorder.

Kurt gets his own room.

He didn’t know why, exactly, but he’d thought they’d just be in a big ward, beds everywhere. Instead his doctor reassures him that all patients are given private rooms in Rosegate.

  
When he had first arrived, with a suitcase carried by Burt and Carole holding Kurt’s hand tightly enough to leave his fingers numb, like she was afraid if she let go he’d disappear, he’d been seen by the doctor. She smiled too wide and nodded too often, but she was kind. They’d talked for a long time while a nurse had cleaned and bandaged his arms, and agreed Kurt was going to stay on the ward. He’d hugged his Dad and Carole goodbye. Kissed Carole’s cheek. Agreed they’d come visit in a few days, when he had had chance to settle in.

Because Kurt was underage, Burt went into the office to fill out the paperwork needed for his admission. A different nurse to the one who’d cleaned Kurt up took Kurt on a tour of the ward.

“There are twenty beds in Rosegate,” he told Kurt as they walked into the ward itself. “We have two psychiatric wards in this hospital, Rosegate is the ward for people aged eight to eighteen, and then there’s Maybelle for adult patients. Well, Rosegate is meant to be for people up to eighteen, but Maybelle fills up quickly so often our younger patients stay on in Rosegate. Our oldest patient at the moment is nineteen. Now,” the nurse stopped. They were stood in a large room full of chairs and sofas, a couple of tables in one corner. “This is the general rec room. You’re going to have a lot of free time on your hands, and most of our patients spend that time here. Off this room there are four corridors. The one we just came down leads to the bathrooms, nurses’ station, and the exit. The doors out of the ward are kept locked at all times for safety reasons.”

  
Kurt raised an eyebrow, and the nurse grinned and raised a finger to his lips. “The doors are kept locked for safety reasons,” he said again, “But I’m not saying for whose safety. You seem a clever boy, I’m sure you can work it out. Now, the next corridor over is where our girls sleep. We have six girls at the moment, and four boys aside from you, so we’re pretty quiet. Our youngest patient is Lisa, she’s only ten so she gets a lot of supervision from the nurses. We ask the older patients to keep an eye on her if there are no nurses in sight, and that includes you if you feel up for it. Then in the next corridor we have the dining room, and our therapy rooms. Your doctor will draw up a personal care plan with you in your meeting tomorrow, to decide on the therapies you’ll undertake during your stay here. The last corridor is, of course, our boy’s corridor. Your room is at the end.”

“Where is everyone?”

“Group therapy. They’ll be told there that you’ve arrived, but it’s getting late so you probably won’t meet them until tomorrow. There are room checks during the night, so don’t worry if you wake up to a stranger looking in on you. It’ll just be myself, Sophie, or Alistair. Any questions?”

“What’s your name?”

“Michael.”

“How many nurses are there?”

“We have twelve nurses on rotation at the moment, there’ll be three or four of us present at any one time. Alistair and Sophie are normally with me on night shifts, but we all swap out who works day and night so you’ll get to meet everyone in due course. I wouldn’t worry too much about remembering names, you’ll learn in time.”

“Why did they take my belt?”

Michael sighed. “It’s just protocol Kurt. No sharp objects, and nothing that could be used in a dangerous manner. Your suitcase will have been searched and emptied of anything dangerous, but you should have been allowed to keep most things. We like our patients to be as comfortable as possible, and don’t make you wear hospital gowns here as long as your own clothes meet our requirements.”

“One more question.”

“Shoot.”

Kurt finally allowed his eyes to meet Michael’s. “Are all the nurses as friendly as you?”

“No, but nobody is a complete asshole either,” Michael said cheerily. “Go on to bed. You might as well get unpacked and settle in for the night, breakfast is at 7:30am sharp.”  
________________________________________

The wakeup call is just a knock on Kurt’s door at 7am reminding him that breakfast is in thirty minutes. He dressed slowly, jeans and a sweater, his interest in fashion having been sapped around the same time as his energy to fight, or talk back. The dining hall itself was easy to find, a small room with two rows of tables. Kurt tried to remember what Michael had told him about the other patients. Four boys and six girls.

Lisa was easy to spot. She was sat at the table by the window, a painfully thin little girl who Kurt wouldn’t have put as older than five if it weren’t for what Michael told him last night. There was only one other person in the room, a girl sat next to Lisa, trying to coax her into eating some of the cheerios in the bowl in front of her.

Kurt couldn’t tell if she was another patient, or just a nurse out of uniform.

At Kurt’s entrance, both girls looked up. Lisa slid a thumb into her mouth and turned towards the window, but the older girl stood and walked over to him.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

Kurt nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor. The girl didn’t seem perturbed. “I’m Mercedes, and little one over there is Lisa. You should come eat with us. Unless you’re another anorexic, in which case by all means take the table in the corner and just pretend to eat for half an hour.”

“’m not.”

“Then pick your poison and come eat with us.”

It transpired that Mercedes was the nineteen year old Michael had been talking about. She was a voluntary admission like Kurt, but Kurt was struggling to work out why she was on a psychiatric ward. Mercedes was loud and brash, but she wasn’t frightening. She didn’t seem dangerous, or depressed, or angry. He figured it was probably rude to ask what she was in for. Lisa was much easier to work out.

Kurt had never realised a child as young as her could have an eating disorder.

They sat together for half an hour, and in that time the rest of the patients trickled in. Mercedes had made Kurt sit beside her so they were both watching the door, and she used that vantage point to tell him about the people who walked in.

Only two stood out; a girl and boy who looked like they were related.

“They aren’t,” Mercedes said, as if she’d read Kurt’s mind. “Related, that is. Everyone thinks It. The girl is Rachel, she’s got the room next to me. I swear that girl never stops talking, it’s like someone set her mouth to fast forward. She’s just in until they work out the right drug combination to mellow her out, she got admitted by her parents during a manic episode. Nice enough girl, so long as you don’t challenge her.”

“And the boy?”

“Well he’s our little mystery. Blaine Anderson, sixteen, voluntary admission but we think his parents forced him to agree before he got here. That’s all the nurses have told us. No idea what his diagnosis is, nobody has a clue. He doesn’t talk, but we don’t know if he’s actually mute or whatever. Keeps to himself mostly. He was the newest admission until you got here.”

Kurt glanced around at the other patients. Everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves, leaving a couple of chairs between each other. “How long have they all been here?”

Kurt hadn’t really thought about the logistics of his stay. He’d assumed he’d only be in a couple of days, but the way Mercedes was talking made him think people in Rosegate didn’t get out that fast.

“Depends on their diagnosis and treatment. Generally speaking people stay a week. If they’re not responding to the therapy or medication, they might stay longer, or they might be moved on and treated as an outpatient instead. I’ve been here on and off for a couple of years, it’s why they haven’t put me in Maybelle. Rachel’s another one who comes in and out, but she’s never come willingly. Then Blaine has been here for about a couple of days and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, and Lisa has been a pretty permanent fixture for a couple of months now. Schizophrenics, ones like Lisa with eating disorders, and people who fall on the extreme end of the autism spectrum are the ones that stay the longest. What about you? What are you in for?”

A nurse appeared by Kurt’s side before he had to answer. “Are you finished eating Kurt? Doctor Jacobs would like to see you.”

“I’m done,” Kurt said, standing up. “Bye Mercedes, bye Lisa.”

Lisa sniffed, but Mercedes gave Kurt that same big grin she’d given him when he first walked into the room. Nobody else in the room seemed that bothered by Kurt’s appearance or departure, but when Kurt sidestepped Blaine’s table the boy’s eyes flickered up momentarily before he returned to staring at his cereal.

Kurt had to bite his lip hard to stop himself from gasping out loud.

He’d never seen eyes so empty.


End file.
